


Not Charity, just a Gift

by JeromeSankara



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Child Neglect, Childhood, Comfort, Comfort Food, Fluff, Gen, Help, Implied Daryl Dixon/Rick Grimes, Kid Daryl Dixon, Rickyl Writers' Group, School, Support, Young Daryl Dixon, Young Rick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-11 12:48:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11148753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeromeSankara/pseuds/JeromeSankara
Summary: Daryl's home life is the worst kept secret of school, but that doesn't mean it has to carry over to the classroom. There will always be someone there for him, and Rick is at the front of the line.





	Not Charity, just a Gift

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FandomLifeTookMyHandAndSaidRUN](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomLifeTookMyHandAndSaidRUN/gifts).



> A beautiful bunny that FandomLifeTookMyHandAndSaidRUN had given to me, based off of this video: https://www.facebook.com/uniladmag/videos/2803721552984219/

Daryl's home life was the worst kept secret of the classroom.

They pretended not to notice the bruises that he would cover up with his long sleeves even in the spring and warmer months, or the times of him missing days on end of school. The times where he would be sitting in the playground long after school let out were usually the worse.

Yet it was still a taboo topic. Anyone who tried to mention it to his face were hushed away by either other students or by the glare of the youngest Dixon. He would always mutter that everything was fine, or that they needed to 'get off his back'. He would say other words, but Mr. Greene didn't allow swearing in his class.

Talking to the teachers didn't help, because they already knew.

It left the third grade class in an awkward position. They couldn't talk about it aloud, but it was still whispered in the classrooms before the day began.

Did you see the new bruise?

There were bandages on his arms, I saw his sleeve slip.

When was the last time he brought a lunch?

That last one was repeated far more than anyone was comortable with. His sweatshirts were starting to hang on him a bit more, and they were running out of subtle ways of sneaking food. Sometimes they would say that their parents had messed up their sandwich, others would feign feeling ill to pass it off to Daryl to avoid puking it up later.

Daryl wasn't an idiot though, and he wasn't one for charity. Even after all this time, quietly taking from the lost and found when he didn't have proper clothing, he still denied the needs.

It was hard to help someone who denied it to the point of near death.

It was the usual morning, a bit colder than normal for the spring but nothing too awful. There was the normal chatter between class periods, but there was still a seat empty. Daryl was late again. It was third period and time for English lessons by the time that he finally came.

He practically slithered his way in just as the class had begun, shivering in his sweatshirt that was two sizes too big. No one said a word or acknowledged his presence, because that was the way he would have it. They had given up asking him why he was so late, not when he gave the same answer of 'none of your business.' Again, more words could be added if Mr. Greene wasn't around.

The chair squeaked loudly, yet Mr. Greene didn't skip a beat with his explanation of adverbs. The sound of the chalk against the board did their best to cover up Daryl getting settled in his seat and digging through his bag for a notebook and pencil.

As the digging continued and became a bit more frantic, there was the sound of ripping.

"I got yah," was the chuckle as Rick slid the piece of notebook paper onto the desk, a pencil following. Rick was about the only person that Daryl accepted anything from, which made him the vessel for everyone else.

He did earn a slight glare from beneath the pulled up hood, but then was given a grunt. That was as close to a thanks as Daryl ever gave but it was enough. Flashing a smile in slight victory, Rick soon pulled himself back into his chair and flipped to a new page of the notebook.

Daryl was a good student, all things aside. He took notes like a demon, even better than Glenn who seemed to always be trying to impress Mr. Greene. Probably because he had a hell of a crush on his daughter, Maggie... It was silly.

What wasn't silly was the knowledge that Rick held but would have to bite back.

With his father being the sheriff of their little town, it was near impossible to be ignorant of the constant calls to the Dixon property. He had been out there last night, not coming back until closer to midnight. While Rick was supposed to be asleep, he managed to sneak around enough to listen to his father explaining to his mother the current situation.

Another trip to the drunk tank, but they were trying to press charges of abuse. Apparently Merle had taken most of the blows, but only once he had found Daryl being whipped again and stepping in. What was keeping the charges from sticking was the constant denial of the two brothers.

Daryl would say that he deserved it... Merle would try to cover it up with clumsiness...

From the corner of his eyes, he noticed that Daryl was still lightly shivering. He was on the edge of his seat, to make sure that his abused back would not touch the back of the chair. The sweatshirt was black this time, the usual one he would use so that the blood wouldn't be visible if it soaked through...

Cringing at the very thought of it, he turned his attention back to the board. All he could do was try to be a good friend, that was what Dad always said. It was something that had to be left for the adults, but...

There had to be _something_  they could do.

Then fourth period began and gave them the opportunity.

Sometimes there were days that Daryl would just sit in the chair and doodle if he had the extra paper. Other times, Rick would try to pull him into some sort of conversation. Shane would immediately try to butt in and make himself the subject to talk about, but it helped keep the edge off of Daryl.

Sometimes, though, they had their chance.

It came when Rick had taken out his lunchbox and unwrapped a sandwich that Mom had made him, a simple ham sandwich. He took his time as he took a bite from it, though made sure to keep Daryl in his peripheral vision.

He watched as Daryl reached into his bag and pulled out the slightly dented metal lunchbox, but he could already tell that it was light. The sound it made when it was set onto the table was hollow, and Daryl's shoulders sagged. Yet he still held a tiny bit of hope and cracked open the lid...

...Then let it close again.

He raised his hand very slowly, but Mr. Greene already had nodded towards him, excusing him without having to verbally do so. His chair creaked and was tucked back beneath the desk, and his footsteps were just as hollow as his stomach.

Rick had heard it growl a few times just in the last hour. It was another thing everyone pretended didn't happen.

Only once the door closed did the chatter finally stop in the room. Glances were shared, nods given, then the rummaging began.

Sometimes they took turns since it was always awkward asking parents for some extra food and not explaining why. Other times, they took pieces from their own packed meal and set it aside just for this purpose.

Rick always helped, though.

Finally able to open his lunchbox all the way, Pokemon themed, he pulled out the other half of the sandwiched wrapped in plastic. There was a stickynote attached to the top of it, as if he needed further reminding of who the sandwich was made for. The words always brought a slight smile, even as he knew that it probably would be ignored again.

A few people got up from their chair mere moments after the door had closed, when Mr. Greene had given them the all clear. The tin lunchbox was opened again, and it was already being filled. Someone had left some grapes, another leaving a pudding cup - a very appreciated donation, while another left a small bag of Cheetos.

Next was a water bottle that was slipped into the bag, and he noticed that someone slipped in a small baggie of bandages. That came from Carol. She was the light at the end of the tunnel that they hoped Daryl would soon follow, since her abusive father had been sent to jail. While she was still so shy, she and Daryl were able to be shy together.

Rick waited for the others to finish, his heart filling just as fast as the lunchbox. He didn't want to think about how much longer they may have to do this, nor the probable reason to why some people doing it because they pittied Daryl.

All he could think about was that this was one lunchbox closer to Daryl being freed from his homelife.

Finally, it was his turn. Holding back a grin was hard to do, not as he quickly jumped seats to go into Daryl's spot. Fumbling through the food already placed inside, he took the half of the sandwich and pushed it to the bottom. The note nearly got caught by the layers of food, but he managed to tuck it away. It shouldn't be the first thing that he sees...

A clearing of Mr. Greene's throat jolted him back to his seat, nearly skidding his chair across the floor. There was a wave of hushing and giggles, as if it was a surprise party in the making, but just as the doorknob twitched, the talking began again.

It was as if he had never left. Students were eating, others gossiping, and someone asked if they could go to the bathroom. Shane had pulled Rick back into conversation about if he and Rick would be able to play in the treehouse tonight or if the rain would be too much.

Yet even as Shane chatted away and Rick giving casual responses, he still watched the boy with his hood still pulled high over his head. His shoulders were slouched, his hands in his pockets, his head hanging low... It was painful to watch. No one deserved the life that Daryl was living and he wouldn't wish it upon the worst bully in school.

He listened to the boy slouching back into his chair, dropping his elbows onto the desk. Shane was chattering about the new CD he managed to sneak out of his dad's collection, managing to keep Rick distracted to not look over to Daryl.

But he couldn't help it...

Awkwardly dropping the conversation, he turned to his own sandwich and took another bite, staring down upon it. But all that time, he kept Daryl in the corner of his eyes, watching as he picked up the tin lunchbox...

Then nearly drop it, confused at the sudden weight.

Next he seemed to almost bristle, snapping his head left and right for whoever may have filled his box with rocks again, but there was no one looking at him. Unable to find someone to snap at, he instead huffed and stared back at his box. Slowly he reached out again, tilted the lid back...

Rick will never get tired of seeing his eyes practically glow when he gazes across a bounty of food, probably the most he's had in days. It took stuffing another bite into his mouth to keep from grinning, then he almost choked himself. His eyes watered as he managed to swallow down the food, momentarily blinding him of his view.

By the time he had regained his composure and had to give out a few coughs, which Shane soon teased him for, Daryl had carefully taken out a few grapes. They all knew that he wouldn't eat it all at once. He would instead try to 'sneak' some of it during class, trying to hide that he was eating while taking notes, as eating it all at once would lead to a hell of a stomach ache.

But that was alright. Because that would mean that he wouldn't be in class when he would find the note, and Rick would be long gone. He would be sitting on the swing to wait for his brother to maybe come before it got dark, and then he would find the note.

_If you ever need help, the codeword is squirrel._

_We are always here for you._

_-Grimes Family_


End file.
